


Orgasms, Post-Orgasms, Post-Case-Orgasms, and the World Needs More Femlock

by brokenlungs



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: F/F, Femlock, Genderbending, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 20:47:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3182600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenlungs/pseuds/brokenlungs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Porn without plot. Shamelessly. Because it's impossible to find enough femlock smut, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Orgasms, Post-Orgasms, Post-Case-Orgasms, and the World Needs More Femlock

Joan giggled at the bites to her bum as she stumbled up the stairs, Sherlock grinning promisingly on the steps behind her. They were high off of the adrenaline of the case – a not unusual occurrence – and both knew almost exactly what was going to happen next.

It had started the moment that Sherlock had turned her coat collar up and called Joan to leave after giving her final deduction on the case. Right now Joan’s head was too light to remember exactly what it had been about, just the way that Sherlock’s eyes narrowed when she was deducing a crime scene for the first time, or how her long fingers had splayed out for days on end as she recounted every piece of evidence, mostly in silence. The same hands that were sliding up Joan’s legs from her knees to her ass. She laughed more boisterously and batted them away, feeling the familiar pulse where Sherlock had almost touched just then.

It had been this way for months now, after so much time wasted denying or concealing emotion, they were still in the honeymoon faze and each were trying to make it last for as long as possible – not a single dry spell had occurred, and every day where an orgasm was not achieved was paid back the next (with interest). 

Reaching the landing, Joan was pushed in through the door, her jumper being grabbed in a fistful at her back before she could fall over much further than a step inside the door. Just as Sherlock slipped in her back against the door and Joan was forcefully ricocheted and spun around. The mash of lips was instant and desperate and joyful, Joan’s hands trapped between their chests and Sherlock’s hands on her neck and in her hair. Joan parted Sherlock’s lips with the force of her own, and teased her tongue in gently, promising.   
Sherlock had always been sensitive when it came to her senses, and the moan was immediately spilling into Joan’s own lungs. Joan freed her arms and slid them up to Sherlock’s shoulders – silently remarking, again, at their strength concealed by such delicacy – and tucked her hands under the shoulders of the statement coat. Sherlock dropped her arms so Joan could slide it off of her, even allowing it to fall to the floor. She hadn’t been wearing a blazer today, and Joan immediately went to undo the buttons of her white shirt but Sherlock stopped her. Dipping her head down and trailing kisses from Joan’s hairline to her jaw, then back up to whisper in her ear.

“Your turn.” She said, her husky voice that was saved only for the bedroom making Joan’s knees weak and her pants even wetter. Sherlock kept her head intoxicatingly close to Joan’s as her hand went to work removing Joan’s Aran jumper – a gift from… someone… Joan’s head was simply full with the gentle draft of air that tickled her skin as the removal of the jumper pulled up the t-shirt underneath it.

Sherlock mustn’t have been expecting it, because at first she looked confused as to why her hands weren’t touching bare skin, then smiling as she thought of her next remark. “Was another layer really necessary?”

Joan was smiling too, eyes half-lidded with lust. “The jumper was scratchy…” The sentence possibly being the un-sexiest thing to ever be said in a moment like this, but followed by a sloppy press of lips and Sherlock’s bottom lip being sucked between Joan’s teeth. Sherlock let out an aroused sigh and watched as Joan pulled away and removed her own t-shirt. Sherlock tugged Joan back in, hands roaming the freshly bared back, and turned her around to press Joan against the cool door. She gasped at the sensation, but then had it counteracted by Sherlock’s warm body pressing against her, hands fumbling at something between them while her mouth bent forward for another kiss. 

Joan turned her head to avoid the kiss, making the consulting detective emit a frustrated little grunt as her forehead ended up sliding against Joan’s cheek then falling to her neck. Joan began to help with the buttons, making a triumphant ‘humph!’ sound when the shirt was thrown across the room and found a place among the chairs. Finally, skin on skin, the girls simultaneously reached around and expertly unclipped the others bra, laughing at the synchronisation. The laugh turned into a moan, Joan’s hands cupping Sherlock’s neck as Sherlock’s hands slid down to undo Joan’s trousers, slipping them off.

Joan urgently hooked her leg around Sherlock’s waist, pulling her in as close as possible and never enough – another familiar feeling. She was short enough that she could grind herself on the taller girl’s thigh, moaning against her lips whenever she managed to hit the spot perfectly. One of Sherlock’s hands fell around to cup Joan’s arse, helping the rhythm go deeper and more precise, while the other hand curled around her jaw and neck. Sherlock pressed sure kisses on Joan’s panting mouth, keeping her stance firm while she rutted against her. 

“Oh God, Sherlock…” Joan’s rutting became more urgent, and Sherlock realised that Joan was somehow close already. She didn’t want it to happen just yet, not like this, and pulled herself away from Joan. “No –oh fuck – wait, Sherlock…” Joan tried to keep Sherlock from moving.

“Not yet Joan, look…” Sherlock gave a distracting bite to Joan’s neck, causing her to loosen her grip on Sherlock’s waist, before sliding to her knees and laying trails of wet kisses all over Joan’s thighs. 

“Please… yes, Sherlock, come on…” Joan’s fingers were in Sherlock’s hair, her head dashing between leaning on the door to looking down at Sherlock. Sherlock kissed and sucked eagerly on the outside of the fabric covering Joan’s slit. 

“Jesus Christ, Sherlock I am way past that could you just suck my fucking clit before I explode?” Joan’s voice was firm, aching, and so straight-forward and unabashed that Sherlock didn’t think twice before pulling off the panties and laying her mouth on Joan so suddenly that she cried out above her, forgetting about Mrs. Hudson downstairs. Sherlock moaned into Joan, the soft vibrations adding extra elements of pleasure. Every sound Joan made, mixed with the taste of her on Sherlock’s tongue as she repeatedly sucked Joan’s clit into her mouth, made Sherlock’s own arousal increasingly more difficult to ignore. She unconsciously started rutting against the air, the motion moving her head slightly and bringing Joan closer to the edge.

“Shh-” Joan didn’t finish whatever she was about to say, even Sherlock wasn’t sure if it would’ve been her own name or a curse. Joan’s hand gripped repeatedly in Sherlock’s hair, until Sherlock upped the game and started nodding her head in a bucking motion, tongue madly chasing through Joan’s wet folds intermittently, before sucking the wonderful nub back into her mouth and continuing the bucking motion with her tongue flicking at the nub between her lips. 

Joan was trying not to thrash above Sherlock, knowing that it usually ended badly, but couldn’t suppress another yell as Sherlock brought her finger up to dip in the wetness before entering Joan, searching eagerly for the second glorious spot and finding it immediately. “Oh fucking hell! Sher-” cut off by a second finger entering, Joan’s head turned to press against her shoulder as she was overcome by the intense feeling of Sherlock’s skilled hands and mouth. Joan’s body clamped down repeatedly on Sherlock’s fingers, hurdling towards the precipice. 

“Don’t you dare fucking stop… Oh shit…” Joan mumbled through her tight mouth, focusing intently on the welling inside her. Sherlock, as she looked up to see Joan’s face contorted in pleasure, immediately felt like saying “Not a hope in hell.” But suppressed it, and soon forgot it as she saw Joan’s breath catch, an unmistakable clench around her fingers, followed by a rush of fresh juices. Sherlock slowly let go of the nub as Joan came, occasionally lapping very gently at it. She turned her fingers slowly around inside Joan, drawing out the orgasm until Joan was satiated for the moment.

Joan slid down to Sherlock’s level, her legs sliding out from under her. Sherlock crawled on top of her awkwardly, leaning down to kiss her. Joan’s tongue slid around Sherlock’s mouth as if exploring, occasionally dipping back into her own. Tasting. Sherlock’s arousal only heightened, and she groaned quietly into Joan’s mouth, growing increasingly louder as Joan’s hands slid down to slide up Sherlock’s tight pencil skirt, and let one hand dip into her tights. 

“I can’t believe you still have clothes on…” Joan muttered with a post-orgasm smile.

“I was a little busy…” Sherlock sighed as one of Joan’s fingers slid between her folds, which she knew were puffy and flushed with arousal.

Joan could usually come more than once, but after 3 she always wanted to conk out for a few hours. After her first orgasm, though, she was pretty cuddly. And often ready to go again, especially now as she felt how wet Sherlock was after pleasing her. Time to return the favour. 

“Now…” Joan said with a silent promise in her voice. “…your turn.” 

Sherlock didn’t have time to react before Joan was spinning her around and pulling her into her chest. Though Joan was small, her presence was big, and she put her legs on either side of Sherlock. Her body was like a smaller shadow of Sherlock’s, apart from her fingers twirling daintily around Sherlock’s highly sensitive clit. 

Over the past few months, they had both learned some crucial things. 1. Joan liked fast, hard, friction, but came harder from slow build-ups which she didn’t usually have the patience for, and 2. Sherlock had a very sensitive clit, and preferred both g-spot and clitoral stimulation. She couldn’t usually come from fingers, only on special occasions, and tonight Joan was going to tease her until she forgot about the movement of time. 

Her fingers continued dancing, making Sherlock squirm and try and grip the floorboards. When she couldn’t find a hold, she dug her nails into Joan’s thighs, and Joan let it happen. Sherlock was always breath-taking like this - eyes closed, twitching, moaning and pulsing. Lost. Joan held the skin at Sherlock’s neck loosely between her teeth, tightening the grip when Sherlock’s nails dug slightly lighter, and nibbling gently when Sherlock groaned in pent-up lust.

“Joan, I can’t… Please, please just make me come…Ohh..” Sherlock was writhing and sounding desperate enough. Perfect. Joan spun her around again, and kissed a hasty trail down her body. She could worship it another time, right now was about getting Sherlock off before she exploded. Joan’s nipples grazed the cool floor in this position, sending a shock through her. From the angle she was at now, she could see Sherlock’s small pale breasts that melted so perfectly with her skin like milk, sticking up with gloriously pebbled nipples. She could see Sherlock’s head press harder against the floor while Joan put her mouth back on her again. 

Sherlock always bucked. A lot. Joan had grown to expect it after multiple incidences where she thought she might have just broken her nose or lose a tooth, so she held Sherlock down firmly (which Sherlock thankfully loved). With more dancing of her tongue, Joan managed to slide one hand from where it was holding Sherlock’s hip to where it could dip in her juices again, massage around Sherlock’s opening, and quickly dive in, intent on finding Sherlock’s other favourite spot. 

Sherlock let out an animalistic grunt mixed with a desperate groan, a sound you simply couldn’t achieve any other way. It always made Joan drip with new lust, and moan appreciatively into Sherlock. She methodically massaged Sherlock’s g-spot, and mixed the gentle twirling of her tongue with a deeper lapping, and soon Sherlock became harder to control with one hand. She tried to hold herself down, breathlessly moaning Joan’s name over and over, and Joan was captivated. She simply couldn’t think of taking her eyes away from watching Sherlock as she glided towards orgasm at a catastrophic and graceful speed. Everything about her was perfect, absolutely perfect, and Joan wanted to say it. But she wouldn’t dare move her mouth away now.

Sherlock arched deeply, no sound came from her for a moment before she crashed down onto the bed, grunting and cursing and biting her lips and creating the most wonderful ‘o’ shape with her mouth. Joan ran her hands along Sherlock’s sides, still lapping her tongue around Sherlock’s opening to add some extra after-effects. Sherlock finally started to breath normally again, and seemed to want to fall asleep right where she was. Her eyes were closed and she still shook every now and then with after-shocks. Joan took it as a sign of a job well done. She crawled up Sherlock’s body, legs on either side of her.

“Sherlock…” She whispered then kissing the side of Sherlock’s mouth and along her jaw, pressing her lips softly down Sherlock’s neck.

“Mmm…” It didn’t sound like much of a response but it was probably all that Joan was going to get. 

“You’re still on the floor, love.” Joan couldn’t stop a smile as she looked into the face of her post-orgasmic lover, who needed to smile like this more often. Lazy, carefree, endorphin-filled. 

“Staying…” Sherlock mumbled, attempting weakly to pull Joan down and keep her there. Joan jumped up. 

“I didn’t want to do this…” She mumbled (not that she really minded), then used all of her strength the pick up the woman almost twice her size, and bring her the very short distance over to the couch where they both collapsed. Joan lay, and Sherlock found a very comfortable position on Joan’s body to snuggle into almost immediately. Joan’s eyes closed quickly, fingertips dipping into Sherlock’s curls and feeling both of their wetness finding places on their bodies to drip into a dry, and she didn’t mind. 

And she hoped Sherlock would wake up soon so she could go again.

**Author's Note:**

> First attempt at smut EVER, hope you enjoyed! All feedback is so appreciated you have no idea... x (you can also check out my tumblr @ mrshudsonsbrownies or prettycasualprettydumb)


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